


Darkened Nights and Violent Things

by beatbackbones



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Bryden, Death, Drug Use, Drugs, Fall Out Boy AU, Love Triangle, Love Triangles, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Ryden, Underage - Freeform, brallon, dealer dallon, drug dealer Dallon, panic! at the disco au, stripper Brendon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-05 05:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11007252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatbackbones/pseuds/beatbackbones
Summary: This is a small fic I wrote for my best friend 'cause she really wanted a stripper!Brendon AU, this is what I made of it!





	1. Prologue

Nine thirty in the morning on a Wednesday, the shop where I bought my crappy coffee every morning was almost empty. The only ones there were me, the waitress and a weird looking stranger.

He wore big sunglasses though it was only April and the sun wasn't even shining. The collar of his coat was pulled up all the way and his hair covered most of his face.  
It looked strange and the way he tapped his fingers on the table made me believe he was waiting on someone or something.

His gaze changed direction as a tall, dark haired guy entered. He had defined facial features that I would call handsome in some way but the dirt on his nose and the dark circles under his eyes ruined the pleasing picture.

"Can I get you something, hun?”, the waitress asked politely, gesturing the coffee pot she held in her hand. "No thank you, maybe another time.”, he said quickly as he walked passed her to sit opposite of the weird looking stranger.

I heard them talk but couldn't make up what exactly their conversation was about. You might call me an eavesdropper, but I do this strictly because.. well because I'm a writer and i need new, fresh inspiration.

After a couple of minutes the dark haired guy stood up from his seat, face red, and walked towards the exit, passing my seat next to the window. The stranger yelled something to him, got rid of the sunglasses and walked in a fast pace after him.

“Ryan!", he yelled when he was at the exit door of the coffeeshop but it was too late, the dark haired guy named Ryan already drove off in his car.

 

The next day on the same hour, the weird stranger was sitting at his table again. This time he wasn't wearing sunglasses or a coat, he looked like an everyday person today, and his eyes were fixed on the coffee cup in front of him.

"Can i get a refill?”, i heard him yelp at the waitress, not the same one as yesterday. She walked over to him and poured the recently brewed coffee in the small, beige cup. After about twenty minutes the stranger stood up and walked towards the exit.

He stopped in his tracks when he reached the half glass door and turned around with a two dollar bill between his index and middle finger. His hand gestured that it was meant as a tip for the waitress. She took the two dollar bill, winked seductively and put in in her pocket.

He left, she looked happy and I, I observed every move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me quite a while to figure out where I was going with this fic but hey, what happened happened and I just hope you all like it.


	2. Chapter 2

I didn't see the stranger for a couple of days and neither did I see the dark haired guy named Ryan again. That was until I was invited by two of my friends to go to a bar on a Saturday night. 

When we entered the neon lit room I was almost sure that it wasn't a bar at all. It was a club, a stripper club to be precise. Both males and females were 'dancing' on the small stage like platforms and every now and then a piece of clothing disappeared. 

I didn’t see one of my two friends that were accompanying me for very long that night, the moment we entered he was gone, off to enjoy himself. 

"Shots for the lads?”, a poorly dressed girl offered, I could see she wasn't twenty one yet, so when she took one herself it couldn't have been legal.  
"Yes, thanks hun.”, my friend said in a manner that I would later call a douche move but I kept my mouth shut. 

"You, sweetie?”, she pouted her lips a bit and pushed up her chest to look bigger there. "No, thank you.”, I politely declined, she looked defeated.

 

Even though the night was still young, most of the people there were drunk, high or rich; not necessarily in that order. 

After too many shots of some alcoholic substance and a couple of trips to the bathroom, my friend was all three. I, on the other hand, couldn’t be less interested in what was happening around me. 

That was until he walked through the door, the dark haired guy named Ryan. This time he looked brisk and like he was eager for something, that something being totally what I expected it to be when he sat down in one of the comfortable sofa’s in front of a platform. 

 

It was four in the morning when most of the people in the club left; me, my two friends, the dark haired guy named Ryan, some strangers and a couple of strippers were the only ones still there. 

“I think I’m gonna go home, I had my fun tonight and honestly, all I wanna do right now is sleep.” my one friend who’d been gone all night said to us after he inhaled another pull from his cigarette.

“‘Kay, goodnight Joe.”, my friend called while I just did my small goodbye wave without saying a word. I was the most quiet out of all my friends, and with “all” my friends I mean the few guys that like and talk to me cause apparently, I’m not a likeable person. 

The dark haired guy named Ryan looked tipsy but not drunk and as he was really enjoying himself.  
Then suddenly, he stood up from the sofa and walked over to the bar, where we were sitting at, and took a seat a few away from me. 

The dark guy named Ryan tossed back the lime daiquiri he just received from the bartender and then he walked off again. 

 

One of the strippers that was still left, a guy, voiced something to my friend. I couldn't make out what it was about but they didn't seem like complete strangers to each other, because of the way my friend reacted. 

“This is Brendon”, he started, the guy smiled softly at me, “he wants to play music so i try to help him a bit whenever I can.” 

Brendon’s appearance made me believe he was fragile, like he was made out of the finest porcelain in the world and the smallest breeze would shatter him into pieces. At the same time, his eyes and facial features looked aged, like he had experienced a lifetime before he even turned nineteen. 

“What kind of music?”, I asked curiously. Brendon answered that he liked all different kinds, from rock to jazz to hip-hop, but he enjoyed mixing the styles and making something new and different out of it. “Like a music smoothie.”, he said. 

According to my friend, the young man was very talented, and he deserved to be heard, to be listened to. The lyrics he wrote spoke to the heart, and to the soul, they were poetically written.  
Of course I wasn’t just taking in everything he said like a pill, i needed to hear it for myself first.

 

After another hour spent talking and drinking we decided it would be best to go home, to my home. That would be the safest and easiest option.

My friend choked down the last bit of alcohol still in his glass and the two of us walked to the exit sign singed door. “Do we get to see you around here another time?” the not bad looking bartender asked him, paying no attention to me whatsoever. 

Sometimes I wished I was as good looking, as intimidating and just as notable or striking as my friend was. He always got full attention from most, and if he didn’t, then they where too discouraged to do so. It was frightening sometimes, but most of the time it just made my self confidence drop below zero.

“Sure.” my friend replied in a careless manner, the bartender just smiled, as if something like this could truly make someone happy. 

The last thing I saw before i walked out of the neon lit stripper club, was the dark haired guy named Ryan kissing Brendon passionately with his hand slowly sliding under the younger boys shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the idea of releasing a chapter every two days? because I've written the whole thing but I don't wanna just post it all at the same time ya know, to keep people waiting a bit ahaha. Also please let me know what your thoughts are on this fic so far, i'd love know


	3. Chapter 3

Monday morning hit me like a brick. My hangover headache was still there and the painkillers made everything look a bit fuzzy.  
Driving would be total madness i concluded, so the bus was the next best option. I was craving coffee at this hour. 

It's funny really, how if we get in a daily routine, something goes a bit different for some reason or the other, and it makes us feel completely out of place.  
The bus stop was on a two minutes walk away from the diner that sold cheap coffee in the morning and pancakes for lunch. 

"A ch e's Din r", some of the letters were faded away from the board above the glass door, "Archie's Dinner" used to be spelled there. I didn't know who Archie was or if he even still owned this place, but name was familiar for a lot of passersby so i think they just kept it. 

The feeling of feeling out of place came flooding back to me as I stepped inside, the weird looking stranger was sitting at the four-place-table again. 

The waitress poured the hot, dark liquid in a dusty pink cup, matching the beige and white ones, and asked me something that I didn’t quite catch. “I’m sorry?”, I asked, so she could repeat herself. 

“I said, are you going to order anything else?” her voice sounded tired, exhausted even and her eyes told me the same story. I politely declined, knowing I would have to call her over again in ten minutes because I knew the need for food would come soon. I didn't care though. 

 

The weird looking stranger checked his phone every now and then, again, I had the feeling he was waiting on something or someone. I guessed on someone, the same one. 

As I expected, the dark haired guy named Ryan came walking through the door only six minutes after I formed the thought in my head. He stopped in his tracks, about 2 or 3 meters away from the weird looking stranger, and just stood there. Completely still. 

The weird looking stranger saw this and walked towards him. "I'm sorry" he started out, the dark haired guy named Ryan rolled his eyes to those words, "Ryan, please listen to me." his voice shokked while speaking those words. 

"I never meant to hurt you in anyway, i just think this was something unavoidable. I hope you understand and we, what we have here, can go on. I really can't permit loosing you..."

"Dallon, maybe it's better if we call it quit.”, the dark haired guy named Ryan softly spoke, i could barely understand it, but I did. 

The weird looking stranger that was called Dallon apparently, dropped his gaze to the ground. He rubbed his eye with one hand and looked up again at the dark haired guy named Ryan.  
Confusion was written on his face.

"I can be better than this, we can make it work!”, Ryan turned around when hearing those words, he wanted to get out of here as fast as he could but he couldn't. The weird looking stranger that was called Dallon had a firm grip on his lower arm. Their eyes locked again and the grip loosened, until Dallon just let go. "Okay." 

•

I couldn't help but feel bad for the both of them. My encounter with their shared emotions was already two days ago but the feeling that i saw something I shouldn't have, that i witnessed something private, was still there.

“Hey!", I turned around to the sound of someone entering my apartment, I was ready to fight even though I didn't know how. Luckily it was my friend, Pete, who I gave a spare key for if something ever happened. "Have you moved at all in the last 24 hours?" 

Now I thought about it, he wasn't wrong. I spent most of my time behind my desk in front of the big window but today, I didn't even get up to go and get food or something. “No.", I dryly responded. 

Pete just laughed, it wasn't really laughing, it was more of a "ha" and then a soft after laugh. If that makes any sense to you. 

He nonchalantly walked around my apartment for a bit, picking something up every once in a while but not putting it back on the same spot afterwards.

"What brings you here?" I tried to break the awkward silence that had fell between us, it rarely happened but when it did, it was very painful. "Oh, you know, checking if you're still alive." 

Pete was one of those cool guys: he had many friends, he could wind any girl around his finger and he had enough talent for two. The best of it was that even though he could have anything he wanted, he still cared the most about me. I'd say he's my best friend but I don't really like the sound of that. Good or great friend, maybe even bro or mate, but not 'best friend'.

"This Friday I was planning on meeting with Brendon to do some music stuff, ya wanna come too?"  
The words rolled of his tongue so easily, he had a hopeful undertone in his voice that made me smile on the inside.

"No, no thank you. I still have a lot of work to do, i'm sorry.”, I answered, making me feel bad only a second after the words left my mouth. 

"Yeah, okay, no problem. Next time maybe?”, his bright brown eyes pierced into mine. "Sure." 

"Great, talk to you later bud." Pete hit my left shoulder softly and walked out of my apartment door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to post yesterday whoops ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> I special thanks to my best friend bc writing this was a very slow process and she helped me a lot with this !! ily ((also thank you for hearing me rant and ask you questions about this 24/7))


	4. Chapter 4

A week passed and it was Thursday now. The coffee shop was closed today because of some family matters with the manager of the place. 

The next best diner place to get coffee from was closer to the bigger city so it was stacked with costumers and the drinks were ten times more expensive. I bit away the burning sensation of freshly made coffee on my tongue. It was hot. 

The waitress had seated me in front of one of the wig windows on a tall bar stool. I didn't like it whatsoever: the woman right next to me kept hitting me in the upper arm with her bony elbow and the man on my left took in enough space for two. 

My brain tried to pursue me to just get up and leave, which I was about to do when something I saw in the corner of my eye stopped me.  
The dark haired guy named Ryan walked in.

His fingers were intertwined with those of Dallon, the weird looking stranger, and I couldn't help but question what was playing between them. 

The dark haired guy named Ryan planted a kiss on the a bit older man's temple slowly and softly, making him blush a little. He quickly recovered from it when the waitress walked up to them, to give them a table. 

While still holding each other’s hand they followed the waitress to a table more in the back of the place. From my seat it was difficult for me to spot them and I knew I wouldn't be able to hear them talk at all. But those thoughts didn't make me less curious. 

After about an hour the dark haired guy named Ryan and his, I suppose, boyfriend left their table to take a seat at the bar. “I told you we should’ve told her we weren't gonna eat anything.”   
“How could I know that the tables are only for clients who’re gonna eat something.”, the dark haired guy named Ryan jokingly snapped back at the other young man’s snarky comment.

“Because it’s like that in almost every diner or cafe, you dumbass.” his laugh echoed through my ears. It was the kind of high-pitched laugh that would make anyone feel good on the inside and make them genuinely smile. “You’re such a dork.”, this made Dallon, the weird stranger, double up.

The dark haired guy named Ryan dissolved into laughter too, his was more of a quiet hoarse chuckle alternated with a gasp for breath every once in a while. It was a pleasing image, the both of them.

•

As the days went on, I saw either of them less and less. I thought that, maybe, the stripper Brendon that the dark haired guy named Ryan did was forever forgotten. I soon realised I was wrong about not just that. 

 

It was an annual thing me and my two friends did on Saturday nights, we’d go to the neon lit strip club from the moment the sun left our eyesight and didn’t leave until it was visible again. 

We mainly did it because my friend, Pete, was able to wrap the bartender around his finger and get the three of us free or half price drinks. It was quite funny how we sat at the bar the whole time instead of, you know, watching the performers getting slowly undressed. 

"Can we get another round of shots?", my friend asked the bartender with a persuasive wink. 

"Comin' right up.", he answered nonchalantly, placing four small shot glasses in front of us and filling them up with a clear alcoholic liquid. "It's on the house.", he took one of the shots and tossed it down. My other friend thanked him kindly and threw back a shot himself. It was stronger then expected because he cringed a bit after he had swallowed the liquid down.

"Cheers.", Pete said as we bumped our two glasses together with a soft thud and tossed the clear liquid back quickly. 

 

Two thirty, two forty five, three 'o clock in the morning. I was not only drunk like every one around me, i was also very, very sick. Because of this, i didn't notice that the dark haired guy named Ryan entering the bar, at first. 

He looked pretty messed up, like he had a couple too many drinks, and clamping on his left hand was Dallon, the weird looking stranger. He was sober and supported the dark haired guy named Ryan's arm so he couldn't fall over.

I bet he didn't even knew where his boyfriend had dragged him to. "Drinks fo...for everyone.", the dark haired guy named Ryan exclaimed loudly. Dallon, the weird looking stranger, quickly replied with a: "No, no. We're not doing that." and dragged him towards the bar, where we were sitting at. 

They took place only a couple of bar stools away from us, the dark haired guy named Ryan almost falling off his seat. 

Suddenly my mind, influenced by too much alcohol, was working and clear again. I felt time slowing down when Brendon walked in, only wearing a black lacy two-part with matching stockings and heels. Not that i was attracted to him in any way, no no, it was the feeling that something awful was about to happen that did it. 

That something being Brendon seeing the dark haired guy named Ryan sitting at the bar. He walked towards the very drunk guy with a playful smirk hanging on his lips, hoping to happily surprise him with his love and body. 

Of course he didn't know who the guy sitting next to him was, he also didn't know that they had strings tied between them. Those strings being a feeling called love. 

Brendon's pace fastened, just like my heartbeat, until his face was only two inches away from the dark haired guy named Ryan's ear. "Hey.", Brendon's voice was breathy and filled with sweet- and softness. "Well, hello there.", he answered, scanning Brendon's body with his eyes quick and needy. Dallon, the weird looking stranger, his gaze followed the happening.

And then "BOOM!" it all happened at once. The dark haired guy named Ryan pulled Brendon in for a deep kiss, he clamped his hands on the dark fabric of the older male's shirt, almost digging his nails through. 

Dallon, the weird looking stranger, jumped up from his seat, pulling the dark haired guy named Ryan with him and slamming his body against the side of the bar. His face stood rough and angry, but then he did something no one had seen coming.

A salty tear rolled of Dallon's cheek, all the way down to his chin and disappeared. "How could you.", he whispered, his voice sounded hoarse. "How, the fuck, could you.", this time louder and harsher, slamming the side of his underarm against the dark haired guy named Ryan's chest. 

Brendon just stood there, watching it happen but not understanding why it was happening in the first place. Dallon, the weird looking stranger, did a step back from the younger guy, turning around to face Brendon.

"Who do you think you are?", he spat it out like it was something disgusting that you would find laying on a sidewalk. The smaller boy flinched at those words. "I..I don't understand what's going on.", Brendon softly whispered, scared to make Dallon, the weird looking stranger, more indignant. 

"You don't understand?", he whisper yelled at him which made him look like a snake about to attack his prey, "You come in here, kiss my boyfriend and think it's okay to do so?"

"He's your boyfriend?", Brendon's question wasn't directed at Dallon, the weird looking stranger, but at the dark haired guy named Ryan, who was still standing in the same position at the bar.   
"Yes, he is. For 8 months already.", he finally dared to open his mouth to speak. He didn't look as drunk anymore even thought the smell of alcohol still lingered around him. 

The way he spoke was calming and he didn't look distressed, which was a little weird considering the fact that his boyfriend just found out about his affair. "A man can have a bit of fun, no?" 

"You cheated on me! With..with some cheap whore!" Dallon, the weird looking stranger, said while holding his hand in Brendon's direction. That was the last thing i heard of them before the bartender demanded the dark haired guy named Ryan and Dallon, the weird looking stranger, to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand I forgot to update again, I am so sorry i'm just super forgetful and busy with school cause my exams are coming up. Hope you've enjoyed this very dramatic chapter though :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter, enjoy!

Police sirens echoed through the night absorbed streets. 

We just had a meeting with a guy that we called ‘our manager’, thanks to him, my words could be put on music. My friend, Pete, mostly arranged everything so the rest of us could focus more on the compositions we made.

The sirens became louder with the second and the realization it was not so far from us hit me hard. I’m what I would call a ‘disaster traveler’. If that word wasn’t in your vocabulary yet, it is now.

“We should check out what’s going on.”, I said, trying to play it cool even though I was very curious about the accident. My friends all replied with a “sure” or nodded their heads uninterested. 

We followed the sound of the police sirens until we found the place where the accident happened, it was in the middle of a neon lit street that could've been one full of life and people, but instead only a handful of passersby stopped to see what had happened. 

The building was demarcated with some sort of a tape like, two coloured ribbon and multiple police cars were parked around the scene. My friend, Pete, said that he didn’t want to get any closer ‘cause it was none of his, or our business, but I could go and look if I wanted too. 

“We’ll wait here.”, he called after me when my curiosity took the better of me and made my feet walk towards the flickering blue lit scene. 

“What’s going on?”, I spoke, not asking a specific officer. A man in his late forties was making deductions but left them to what they were, when he heard my question. 

“A shooting.”, he started out, his voice was low and nice to listen to, like the news readers on tv. “A male in his early or mid-twenties, possibly under the influence of some hard drugs but further investigations have to make that clear, walked into here”, he pointed at the building with his index and middle finger, “with a small, but heavy gun and started firing at the employees and clients.”

I spaced out for a second when he was done talking, thinking about all the lives this stranger took tonight, lives that will be gone and missed forever. A sudden cold feeling rushed over me, making me feel sick.

I knew this street, I have been here before and not just once. My friend Pete’s yell came from behind me, something in the lines of: “This is the bar, our bar!”, but it could've been something else cause my whole body felt numb and my ears didn’t want to pick up all of the sound. Then I snapped back into reality, “Did he kill anyone?”

“Twelve deaths. About five others got transported to the hospital and are in life danger, we also have a couple wounded ones who got away in time. They can call themselves lucky.” 

I asked the officer if they identified anyone yet, he shook his head, his eyes grey of sorrow. “Some of them are pretty beaten up and not all of them were carrying an identity card, we’re going to try and reach their family or anyone who may know them.”, he spoke, less formal than before. 

“Can I, maybe, see them? I have been here before, in the club, so there's a chance I might know someone.”, slowly the words came out of my mouth. 

The man lead me underneath the tape like ribbon, to the other side of the scene where the bodies lay on brancards. White cloths covered their blooded, lifeless figures. It made it look all ghost like.

The officer pulled a cloth down to reveal the persons face, and then another, and another, another, … until all the physiques were visible to me. My stomach acid rose upwards and I felt sick once again. 

There he was, barely nineteen years old with a bullet blown through his brains. The blood of the wound had leaked onto his bushy eyebrows and made the hairs stick together in a dark red mess.

It was a horrific picture for me, but the young man looked peaceful, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. If you covered his forehead and washed away the dark red, you could’ve thought he was sleeping. Except, in fact, he wasn’t.

He was dead, shot in the head because of a reason I didn’t know. A reason nobody could know for sure unless the culprit explained his action. He fled the scene quickly and the police didn’t have a clue where he could be. Patrols were searching the city, every street and every house, until the man was put behind bars.

“So, do you recognize anyone?”, the officer now asked me.

“No, I don’t. Sorry.”, lying was something that I almost never did but felt like the only option here. The young man’s physique was carved into my mind, a visual I wasn’t going to forget anytime soon, and it made me feel even more sick. 

•

“They caught him, the perpetrator.”, the diner I drank my coffee every morning was open again and instead sitting at my small table by myself, I was having a chat with my friend, Pete. 

He was reading a newspaper out loud while I was flicking a pen between my fingers. “He was under the influences of heroine and overdosed on it after the shooting. Killed himself in his bathroom with the needle still in his arm.”, my friend was reading it with such a tone of fascination that made it feel unreal. 

“What’s his name?”, I asked without actually needing to know the answer ‘cause I already did. “Dallon J. Weekes. Dark hair, blue eyes and twenty-three years old.”, he sighed, “What kind of a fucked up mind do you need to have to do something like this? I don’t get it.”

“Me neither.”, I spoke, finishing my cup of lukewarm coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update again, hope you liked it though :)


End file.
